


Last chance

by aniay



Series: Secrets and lies [2]
Category: Transformers, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-03
Updated: 2011-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-14 09:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniay/pseuds/aniay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hold me as I lay dying</p><p>written for tf_rare_pairing 2010 December challenge,<br/>betaed by evvj</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last chance

When the greatest Seeker falls from the sky  
The rain howls, and the Winds cry.  
Swearing revenge over an assassin about to meet his ends-  
A tortured lover with Energon on his hands.

 

“Hold me... Bumblebee.” His voice was weak, barely a whisper from a dying vocalizer. The yellow 'bot hugged the large helm as much as he could, his body shivering with emotions. He couldn’t speak, too afraid that he would say too much, that he would speak the truth.

The body in his arms was graying, spark flickering weaker and weaker. And Bumblebee wished for it all to turn differently. But the world was how it was. The scheming Megatron, cruel Optimus and Ratchet, who turned a blind eye to things he should talk about.

Now he held his dying lover with his Energon splattered all over him.

“Staaaarscream!” Megatron’s voice bellowed in the silence and, smiling sadly, Bumblebee cut the last Energon line in Air Commander’s neck, sobbing as the body grew still, optics switched off violently and spark just died.

Part of Bee’s spark died right then with him; Part that still cared. But now he didn’t. He slipped away from the enemy’s quarters, not minding that he left a trail of Energon behind; he was empty and this emptiness was filling... slowly, with indifference.

Some Decepticon or other charged on him but Bee didn’t care... it might have been another Seeker, three times bigger, but not even half skilled. A few swift movements and Bee was crushing his spark chamber while the Con screamed, before going silent.

The way back to the Ark was quick, a trail of dead bodies left behind. Prime greeted him with “Good work Bumblebee”, ignoring the Energon, as if it was invisible; Bumblebee passed him without even a glance of acknowledgement.

Only when he was in his quarters, alone, safe and clean of Energon. Bumblebee screamed, surrendering to memories.

  
\---------

  
“You are to off Starscream!” Jazz informed him with his usual cold attitude.

An obedient soldier he was, Bee nodded. He was an assassin; it was his job to get rid of mechs and femmes. So despite the sudden panic that exploded inside him, burning him alive, he kept his indifferent attitude.

“What priority?” He had to know who gave the order. Jazz didn’t know, he could still sway him.

“Alpha.”

Then Prime had ordered it... Bumblebee’s insides suddenly overflowed with venomous anger. Optimus knew, yet he issued the order. A cruel way of assessing loyalty.  
He could hear the rich, deceptively calm voice saying “You’re mine,” Possessiveness and cruelty that created the web of secrets and lies.

Prime owned them in a twisted way and liked to remind them about that.

“Understood,” Bumblebee nodded and left. His feet carried him in front of Prime’s office, a hope that, despite his conscious efforts, wouldn’t die.

He stopped for a moment, thinking, but crushed the hope, and went to Ratchet instead. The old codger was good in what he did and Bee needed to be in top form. Starscream would not go without fight.

In med-bay Ratchet was leaning over Wheeljack’s prone form. Just yesterday he had blown himself up again. Bee had known the inventorfor longer than the Autobot brand had been painted on his chest and he knew that there was more to his explosions than only failed experiments.  
If Ratchet knew also, he kept quiet. The medic always kept quiet, especially when it mattered.

He could stand in front of another mech and take the blow; he would bitch about and mop the floor with a mech when he did something small and stupid. But when it mattered he kept quiet.

He could have told Prime about the insanity that he was tumbling into, but only thing he did do was to bitch around about their leader blowing himself up while saving humans... and other inconsequential stuff.

“I’m busy,” Ratchet mumbled, Energon stained hands elbow deep in Wheeljack’s innards.

“I have a mission in few days.”

“Come back in few hours, I should be done.”

  
The preparations were short and tedious, as always. As always Bee picked the movable time and only he knew about details. As always he left a coded message at Jazz’s in case something went wrong. Unfortunately, it never did.

  
He slipped onto the Nemesis and followed the path he knew almost by heart. It was always the same, sneak inside and wait.

Only this time Scream wouldn’t know about his presence.

When the Air Commander entered his quarters, door closing with a quiet hiss, Bumblebee felt calm enveloping his processor. Professional calm of someone doing his job. It was nothing but another Decepticon, not his lover.

He locked the doors with hacked keys and jumped over Starscream, the hidden blade instantly going to main Energon lines. Starscream froze, knowing even a tiny move would be deadly.

“You missed me?” Starscream sneered but didn’t dare to twitch.

“I’m here to off you,” Bee said with a dangerously calm voice. Changing the angle of his blade against Starscream’s plating, sliding it over it with joke of a caress.

Starscream didn’t hesitate; he moved fast, grabbing Bee and throwing him off himself, hissing as the blade grazed his plating, drawing Energon. But the assassin would not have any of that. He twisted away from Decepticon’s grip and with form-denying flexibility he rolled away, only to bounce off the wall and with double impetus charge on the Air Commander again. Starscream dodged the attack gracefully but the blade was faster; it grazed his shin, making him lose balance just minutely, but for a skilled and small fighter like Bee it was enough.

The Seeker tried to catch him; talons extended, he slashed the yellow arm but Bee was unaffected. He slid over the floor and with a carefully placed kick to the injured leg he made Starscream topple down with a clang.

As agile as Seekers were, when you got one onto his back you were a winner. Bumblebee crawled onto the cockpit, placing all his weight over Starscream’s chest, making him unable to get up.

Starscream snarled and with few failed attempts to get up he decided on pointing null-ray to Bee’s helm.

Bee stared into those red optics, flaming, burning... into his processor, into his very spark, igniting his desire. He leaned forward, blade still in hand, and allowed the warm ex-vent to tickle the cold plating of the air-commander's face.

Starscream smiled wickedly and tried to dislodge the yellow Autobot again, to turn the tables, but Bee, as small as he was, pinned him to the floor, rendering the jet helpless.

“You will regret it little bug, it’s my turn to have you,” he snarled but his fans whirled to life – a tell-tale sign of building arousal.

“I doubt it. Stay calm and you will be alive long enough to enjoy this.”

“Promise or a threat.”

“Both, you piece of scrap.” Bumblebee set his spark chamber ajar and let the field of his energy brush over Starscream whose vocalizer suddenly staticked, optics turning wild.

“You are an idiot if you think your field can make me... Oh frag.” Starscream threw his head back, banging it over the cold floor as Bee flared his field again, discharging residual electricity from his armor.

“Are you going to shut up Seeker, or shall I nail your wings to the floor?”

“You wouldn’t dare, you Autobot drone.”

Bumblebee reached down to his wings and twisted his hands, the thin metal under them denting and deforming instantly, the Seeker hissing in pain.

“Fine but next time...”

“There will be no next time,” Bumblebee whispered and removed one hand to reach for the chest interface cover, closest to the spark, closest to what he would never have.

Finding it he dug under plating, his cables retracting and already sneaking their way over the white frame to his chest.

“Just don’t think about hacking me,” Starscream snarled; a tiny sliver of fear in his intonation, fear that made Bee shiver with power.

“Let me in and who knows, maybe you could sway me to not kill you.”

Those cables were never meant to serve pleasure, they were hacking devices, but using their original interface was not what Bee or Screamer ever intended to. They would have to admit to feelings, to more than what they denied they had.

So they pretended to hack each other, they fought their firewalls and forced pleasure into each others' circuits, fighting constantly against each others' systems, driving each other crazy with charge.

This time was no different.

Starscream was insane with pleasure that Bee instilled on him. Images, data packs, sensor readings and tweaking his programming directly.

It was the last time, and Bee wandered and tweaked the firewall he had never dared to touch. Starscream bristled and tried to dislodge him from the connection, but Bee only unsubspaced his blade again and put it to secondary Energon lines in his chest.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Open up and I won’t have to.”

Starscream bristled, throwing bad-code against Bee, hoping to distract him but Bee pushed deeper, the firewalls not strong enough for him, not meant to be strong enough.

“You fragging, worst, scrap... Fine” Starscream switched the firewalls off and Bee stumbled into the files behind. The little spy was thrown suddenly off balance, his blade slipping just minutely but enough to cause damage.

Then the world spun for both of them. Images of them together, no crests, no war, no secrets and lies. No insane leaders, just peace...

The truth about Starscream's reasons...

Bumblebee hated it, hated that he finally learned what Starscream meant... hated that his spark resonated with those wishes, hated that he just couldn’t allow that to happen. Hated, that his resolve crumbled with each small byte of information.

With anger suddenly boiling deeper he slashed the blade over the plating wildly, causing Seeker to howl in pain.

“I HATE YOU.” The whole control he had, he had lost. He hated Starscream, hated himself. Bee stopped, watching Energon flowing freely. And he suddenly wanted to stop its flow to save his... lover.

“I always thought you loved me,” Starscream admitted, his optics burning into Bee’s very core, scorching him with guilt. “You touched me...”

“There is no place for love between secrets and lies, Starscream.”

Starscream opened his chest with a click and silent pride in his optics, the spark still glowing brightly.

But Bee disregarded the gift. Still connected, he closed Screamer’s chest-plates together, ignoring the disappointment and pure pain that crossed the Seeker’s features.

He lifted himself up and started pacing, once again hoping in human’s happily ever after.

Stars’ wheezing ex-vents reminding him of his task once again.

He fell to his knees and cradled the large helm in his hands...

\---------------

“Bumblebee?” It was Jazz... that threw him out of his memory and Bee looked at him with crazy optics, not really seeing. He sank to his knees and opened all his ports, vulnerable but not entirely – his spark was his and only his; he would never share the truth with anyone and if he ever did, it would be over Prime’s dead body.

Jazz connected to him one cable after another, drawing data, erasing emotions and feelings so that the only memory left was a job well done.

For a second Bee wondered how many lovers he had killed, how many missions he had forgotten and remembered killing nothing but an enemy. But then his thoughts flickered when Jazz erased the pain, the emptiness, the indifference and hate.

Bumblebee was a loyal soldier and he would do his job.

The tiny flicker of regret that passed his circuits was purposely omitted.

Jazz was a good and thorough hacker and no one would doubt his expertise, but before he erased what he was supposed to from Bee’s memory core, he let the yellow spy feel what he himself felt.

Maybe things would sometime change. Maybe there was hope.


End file.
